Chapter 15

Within a few hours the swelling crowd had taken Capernaum. The whole countryside hurried in from the fields and vineyards to double the throng that knew something important was about to happen.

Early the next morning, Peter, James, and John appeared on the broad stone steps in front of the Synagogue and stood in an attitude of expectancy. Already the spacious plaza was half filled with restless people. At the sight of these men, known to be associates of the Carpenter, the crowd moved forward, and from the side streets and near-by lake-shore a multitude poured into the cobble-paved area.

At this juncture Rabbi Ben-Sholem opened the imposing entrance-door of the Synagogue, came out upon the highest step, and sternly commanded the crowd to disperse.

Nobody stirred. In some quarters there was impudent laughter. White and shaken with anger, the Rabbi shouted that they had no right to be there, that they were defiling a holy place.

A sullen growl of protest rose from the unruly crowd. Hecklers cupped their mouths with their hands and yelled, ‘Since when was this plaza a holy place?’…’The plaza belongs to the public’… One red-faced, wine-soaked tramp (probably from Samaria, thought Peter) had the audacity to shout, ‘Go to, Greybeard!’

Ben-Sholem impotently shook an outraged fist, gathered the skirts of his robe tightly about his thin legs, and retreated, to the accompaniment of more laughter; jeering laughter.

Peter was sorry and chagrined. He had no reason to be fond of the Rabbi, but this indignity to the old man and his sacred office was much too much! It was a pity, he thought, that Jesus could not pick his audience and exclude all this rough element, this rude riff-raff from pagan Samaria, these no-account émigrés from Macedonia, these dirty, half-civilized Damascenes. The Master’s message would be wasted on these rowdies! What was the good of talking to such people about a Kingdom of love—and good will—and peace?

Now the enraged Ben-Sholem—and surely he had plenty to be angry about—would call his Regents together and demand that something be done. And Jairus would be forced to notify Julian, the Commander of the Fort. And Jesus would be arrested, jailed, no doubt—and flogged, too…He should have been contented with his successes in Cana.

Presently the Master appeared on the steps of the Synagogue and began to speak. It was immediately obvious that he had been aware of the rudeness of the crowd—and deplored it. He had been appointed, he said, to offer a way of salvation to the world; and that meant everybody. In a task so great as this, no prudent thought could be taken about the cost of it or the waste of it. His mission, he said, was to sow the seed of good will among men in the hope of an eventual harvest of peace. Much of this seed would be squandered. Some of it would fall among weeds and brambles, where it would have no chance at all to grow, but the sower could not pause or look back to lament this extravagance. Some of the seed would fall upon stony ground where there was very little soil to nourish it and the tender plants would soon wither and die; but the sower must not be dismayed. Some of the life-giving grain would grow! Some of it would find friendly lodging in fertile ground!

The multitude had grown very quiet. Nobody was grinning now. Even the toughest of them knew what the Carpenter meant when he added significantly, ‘Whoever among you has ears to hear, let him hear.’

There was a sudden stir on the outskirts of the throng. A path through the densely packed crowd was opening to admit a person of some importance who was forcing his way to the front. Peter, standing near Jesus, but on the step immediately below him, craned his neck to identify if possible the well-dressed, determined man who had assumed the right to intrude. It was Jairus! Jairus was striding forward evidently intending to interrupt. His face showed agitation. Peter’s heart raced: now the blow would fall!

Jesus stopped speaking—and waited. If he was apprehensive, he gave no signs of anxiety. The crowd was silent, expectant, on tiptoe, holding its breath. Jairus gazed up into the Carpenter’s friendly eyes and drew so close that when he spoke only those close by were able to hear what he said.

‘Master—my little daughter is grievously ill! We fear she is dying. I implore you to help us!’

Before Jesus could reply, Joseph the butler, who had now arrived, quite out of breath, huskily murmured into his master’s ear, ‘She is gone, sir!’

Jairus’ shaking head drooped and his tears were flowing as he turned away. Jesus laid a hand on his arm and said gently: ‘I shall go with you, Jairus.’

‘It is too late, Master,’ said Jairus brokenly. ‘She is dead!’

‘Come!’ said Jesus. ‘Let us go!’

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